Insomnia
by DorkisMalorkis
Summary: After the coup attempt on the Citadel, Kaidan returns to the Normandy's crew. Shepard's nightmares are getting worse. Shenko fluff piece with some smut at the end. Image is Home, by Graceyn on deviantart, all rights go to her. I don't normally write smut... or at all, really, so be gentle.


Shepard wasn't sure just how late it was when another confusing nightmare of the child in flames startled her from sleep. She bolted upright with a sharp intake of breath, a hiss of pain and terror. It took her several moments to realize she was no longer in the forest that haunted her. She twitched aside the blankets and her bare feet found the cold metal floor. She closed her eyes, and clenched her fists on her knees, willing the trembling to cease.

_'Screw that, I can hold them off. Go back and get Alenko - you know it's the right choice, LT.'_

_'Does this unit have a soul?'_

_'Shepard. Excellent timing. Good to have you here.'_

___'Shepard.'_

A chill crept up her spine and she felt nauseated. She pressed the heels of her fists into her eyes so hard she saw spots beneath her lids. Her head throbbed with pain. It was a moment or two before she trusted her leaden legs to work. But she stood and the feeling dissipated. The memory of the dream was already fading, or being buried by her subconscious; she couldn't decide which though comforted her less.

She silently and efficiently fixed the mussed bed sheets. She showered, brushed her hair and teeth, dressed in a tank top and exercise shorts, fed her fish and cleaned the hamster's tank, all the in span of a half hour. She glanced up at the skylight. The stars twinkled, oblivious, silent, uncaring. She snatched up a datapad and tried to look at some figures and –

She couldn't sit still. She tried sitting at her desk, but her feet and legs demanded movement. Restlessly, she paced her cabin, staring at the datapad's screen without really seeing it. She rubbed her eyes furiously with her fists and glared at the screen, trying to absorb some information. But her mind was still scrabbling, trying to find purchase, trying to make sense of everything in her life.

With a growl of frustration, she pulled on a pair of thick socks, and, datapad tucked firmly under her arm, descended on the elevator to the crew deck. Perhaps she could enjoy a cup of coffee and get some work done before the crew awoke and the next critical mission with millions of lives on the line got flung in her face.

She slipped out of the elevator and turned the corner and – There was someone already at the mess hall's counters, bumbling about with the coffee maker. She stopped dead in her tracks, and couldn't keep herself from staring.

Kaidan stood at the sink. Sweet, adorable, _perfect_ Kaidan. He yawned, scrubbing the back of his hand across his tired eyes as he filled the carafe with water from the sink. He was bare-chested, a pair of loose, dark-grey sweatpants hanging about his hips and a pair of ridiculous white bunny slippers on his feet. Shepard smiled, but it faltered a bit. She still couldn't believe he was there, alive, after what had happened on Mars. The event had seared itself into her mind's eye, an endless loop of Kaidan's pain, to remind her of her guilt. Dr. Eva's half-melted robot hand lifted Kaidan by his head and –

"Shepard?"

His rough voice made her jump. Her eyes snapped open. He was still standing at the counter, but he had seen her. He was giving her an intense, steady stare, concern coloring his features. A deep flush heated her face and she quickly walked over. Kaidan had begun rifling through cabinets in search of coffee. She leaned awkwardly against the counter and pretended to be interested in the datapad she untucked from her arm.

"Couldn't sleep," she offered lamely, without looking up from the seemingly endless stream of information on the datapad's screen. He nodded understandingly, and didn't press the matter of her spying further. She was grateful.

"Bad dreams?" he guessed, opening the cabinet above the sink and closing it again, still fruitlessly searching for human coffee that wouldn't kill them. Or taste terrible.

She glanced at him, the corners of her mouth twitching into a small smile, and tapped the side of her nose. "Nailed it," she said wearily, and set the datapad down. Certainly no use in continuing the charade. She shifted and folded her arms over her chest. "Better be careful, Major. If Cerberus catches wind of your mind-reading skills, they might try to kidnap you." She liked to make Kaidan laugh when she could.

And laugh he did, a short, sharp exhale accompanied by the lopsided grin that made her knees go watery. But it faded too quickly, and he was all business once more. "It's not hard to see you're under stress, Commander," he said quietly, kneeling down to check the bottom drawers for coffee. He swore under his breath when he found nothing.

"It's nothing I can't handle." Commander. Not Shepard, not Ariadne. She mentally flinched at the insinuation.

He frowned up at her over a cabinet door, clearly disapproving. She expected an exasperated tirade, but he said nothing. She wasn't sure if she was appreciative of his discretion, or disappointed at his apparent lack of concern.

He stood up, eyebrows furrowed with an unmistakable expression of frustration. He scratched at the scar left by his implant. Her lips twitched a bit at the familiar gesture. Taking pity on him, she smiled and leaned past him to a small cabinet beside the fridge. It was full of mugs and cups. She reached behind the stacks of cups and pulled out a small pouch of coffee. She'd long ago hidden her own special reserve. The stuff on requisition always tasted terrible, despite how much sugar she poured into it.

He smiled and when he took it from her, their fingers touched and he lingered for a bit longer than normal. Their gaze locked, and she saw his jaw clench. He was so close, she could see his stubble in stark detail, could count the tiny peppering of silver hairs at his temples. She wanted so badly for him to do something, to say something. To crush his lips against hers and leave her breathless and trembling.

But he didn't. His jaw twitched a few more times, but he exhaled sharply through his nose and reached past her to deposit the coffee in the small machine. She blinked a few times and the frustration crept into her stomach like ice. He fiddled with the coffee maker a little more and then thick black liquid began to dribble into the carafe.

Shepard picked up the datapad, feeling more than a little awkward. Her eyes gazed at the screen blankly. It had been like this for weeks now, this careful dance around one another, ever since Kaidan had returned to the Normandy. Since… She closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about how they had almost killed each other, how Udina's half-baked coup attempt had nearly cost her another loved one.

Another moment of cautious silence. Neither were sure how to proceed.

Kaidan watched her, his brown eyes intense as they studied her face. He leaned against the counter beside her. "Remember when you saved my skin on Eden Prime?" he said softly, but his words echoed a little in the empty room. Shepard's gaze flicked to the darkened windows of the medbay absently. "I was so stupid, I just walked right up to that beacon." She wasn't looking at him, but she could hear the rueful smile in his voice. "And you ran and threw me out of the way," he continued, his voice quiet and so intense she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She gave a laughing exhale and looked at him, focusing on his exposed collarbone instead of his face, afraid of what emotion she'd see there. "I almost didn't manage; it was like trying to dead lift a krogan," she teased, and her heart skipped a precious beat or two at his smile that registered at the periphery of her vision.

He shifted a little closer to her. Her dark blue eyes finally met his. They always reminded her of warm honey. "And how did I repay you? By doubting your intentions at Horizon and pulling a gun on you at the Citadel," his voice was bitter with self-loathing, his eyebrows knit close together in a scowl. She quickly tamped down the sudden urge to smooth the scowl away with a kiss.

"Hm, true, but I seem to recall you had my back before Ilos."

Another quiet laugh. Another step closer. She could feel the warm heat of his bare chest on her arms. She willed her heart to stop pounding against her chest, squeezed her arms around her rib cage to stifle the sound. She wondered if he looked at her and felt the same way. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

"I didn't know you still thought about that night, Shepard," he said gently. She felt the backs of his fingers graze against her arm, so light it might have been accidental, if not for the determined stroke of his thumb. He coaxed her arms to unfold. Her hands fell to her side. She looked up at him. He was tall, she realized.

She had never seen his gaze so heated – his eyes seemed as if they belonged to another creature. They bored into hers, urgently searching for… _what_, she wasn't sure. She swallowed. Her throat had constricted painfully, suddenly, and she was afraid her words would be lost. She drew an unsteady breath.

"Kaidan, I – "

But the words _were_ lost. He had closed the distance between them and his powerful arms had coiled around her waist. One strong callused hand was on her jaw, cupping the back of her neck, and, _oh_, his lips were on hers, crushing and desperate. She barely had time to even think; they were in plain sight, and anyone could see, and there were cameras in the mess hall and –

She had forgotten how good kissing Kaidan was. He tasted like Canadian beer and the strange metallic tang of biotic powers, of apple orchards in the fall and crisp winter air. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and her hands glided up his chest and buried themselves in his dark hair. Her nails scraped gently against his scalp, eliciting a groan from the Major, so quiet she felt it, rather than heard it. His arms lifted her, and she found herself seated on the counter, his hand hooking the back of her knee and bringing her legs around his waist.

Kaidan broke away for a moment to look at her, to breathe, to feel her in his hands, and… His smile crumpled. There were tears on her cheek. She was trembling. He cupped her face, brushing away the tears with the coarse pad of his thumbs.

"You're shaking," he said softly, worry in his voice. "I, I've never seen you cry," he added, astonished by his own admission.

"I'm fine, it's just… I missed you, Kaidan," she replied, and buried her face in his neck. Her arms tightened around him, as if he might disappear if she let go. "You almost died, Kaidan, and I was so scared," she added, her voice muffled.

His arms came around her, strong and protective and _real_. He couldn't help but smile a bit. Commander Shepard, the legendary savior of the Citadel, the destroyer of the Collectors. This was a woman who didn't need protecting, and yet he was always trying to shield her. From bullets, from beacons, from the pain of mistakes, past and present and future. She buried her face against his neck to remind herself that Kaidan was here and he was _alive_, and she wasn't going to wake up and feel the icy disappointment at finding him gone.

He gently pulled back and crooked his index finger under her chin, tilting it up towards his own. He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, expressing his own regrets and the ache that he had for her for the years they had been separated. She sighed against his mouth, melted into his arms, locked her arms around his neck. Kaidan's own hands were moving now, sliding over the thin material of her tank and up her spine to massage the back of her neck, the other resting on her hip, pulling her closer, closer, closer.

Shepard inhaled sharply and broke away from his kiss, breathless. He mourned the loss of her warm lips, but only looked at her, an unspoken question in his eyes.

Shepard wriggled a little, an impossibly adorable gesture for such a legendary woman. "Maybe we should go somewhere else?" she said, her voice breathy and a little wobbly. Her hands were cool on his chest. She was always dressed inappropriately for the coldness of space. His fingers on her back slipped beneath her tank top. She shivered.

"Cabin?" he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. She gave a nod, and their lips met again.

Somehow, neither of them are quite sure how, they made it to the elevator. The coffee pot and datapad lay forgotten on the counter in the mess hall, surely to confuse whoever would find them in the morning. The elevator ride was longer than either would have liked, but they found a way to occupy their time, all tongues and lips and teeth and low, needy moans.

By the time they reached Shepard's cabin, they were a chaotic mess, mad with desire. Shepard backed out of the elevator first, pulling him towards her by his hand. He followed, enthralled, and pressed her to the cold metal wall beside her door, mouth hot on the olive-skinned column of her throat. She was breathless and trembling and, _God_, she was beautiful. He clenched his jaw, fighting the overwhelming need for just a bit longer, and hit the button to open her door so hard, it almost shattered.

Without preamble, he hoisted her, quite easily, over his shoulder and carried her into the room. She laughed, freely, and louder than she had in days. He cradled her head as he deposited her on the sheets. He hesitated for a moment, looking down at her and drinking her in. While she had him distracted, her cool fingers skated over the curves and ripples of his abs – someone had been doing crunches.

His stomach jumped and clenched pleasantly at her touch, and she smiled. Half lidded eyes the color of the sea smoldered up at him, and he crashed down against her, his lips and teeth finding her collarbone and leaving searing brands along her skin. Her greedy hands were exploring now, pushing at the fabric of his sweatpants, and he denied her nothing, quickly pulling them off and throwing them to the ground. He was left only in his jockeys now. His own hands rucked up the hem of her tank top under her arms, and she removed it swiftly, revealing a black sports bra, the N7 logo stitched neatly in the corner. She pulled him down closer, eager to feel his skin against hers. Their lips met, and her lips parted to allow his tongue access. She gave his bottom lip an experimental nip. He groaned against her mouth.

And then suddenly, Shepard shifted, rolled, and, using the same technique she had employed when she threw him from the beacon, she was astride his hips, her knees bent at his side. Her hair was wild and messy and longer than he had ever seen it, framing her face, her cool fingers splayed across his stomach and chest. Kaidan's hands automatically came to rest on her back and her hips, but they slid further down the curve of her backside, and he squeezed. He squeezed because it was his mission in life to grope Shepard now. He was sixteen again and desperate to touch her everywhere he could. So much time wasted. She gave an appreciative smile, capturing her own lower lip between her teeth and biting down on it, before rolling her hips against his, slowly, experimentally, teasing.

Kaidan's head fell back against her pillows with a groan – only Shepard could make him forget the straining tension in his groin. She looked down at him with a self-satisfied smile, and leaned down to whisper into his ear. Her deliciously evil fingers brushed against the fine hairs poking out from the waistband of his jockeys.

"Kaidan," she practically purred his name, and her fingers hooked into his elastic waistband. Her lips rained hot and damp kisses across his neck and over his Adam's apple. His hands on her backside tightened, his nails leaving small crescent moon shapes in her flesh. A heady noise of appreciation tore from her lips, and the control he kept locked just beneath his skin writhed at the noise, demanding more. He groaned through clenched teeth, and sat up, his arms locking around her waist. She brought her hands to his face, brushing her thumb against his cheekbone and across his mouth. He captured the digit between his lips and grazed his teeth across the pad, eyes focused on her face. Her breath hitched and her eyes smoldered deliciously.

"I love you, Kaidan," she whispered, her hands moving up to tangle in his hair. Their lips met again, fierce and greedy and each wanting further reassurance that the other would not disappear in a puff of smoke. Kaidan's hands found the waistband of her exercise shorts. With a frustrated rumble, he rolled her underneath him, his strong arms cradling her as he practically ripped the shorts and her panties from her legs. She laughed. He sat back on his heels and looked at her, hands curving slowly over her stomach and across her hips. Goose-flesh chased his touch. She hummed appreciatively. A flush rose to her cheeks.

His lips found her throat, her collarbone, her ribs. All of the scars she had earned over the years had vanished, but he had them memorized, his lips trailing each. She shivered. His lips brushed over her hip bones, and suddenly, he lifted her hips up as he sat back, arms supporting her. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and she practically screamed as his tongue found her heated core.

Her hands fisted in the sheets. He watched her, breathless, enraptured at the sight of her dark hair, longer from her incarceration, pooled under her head, her eyes closed to slits and her chest rising and falling rapidly. He groaned aloud at the sight of her, his tongue probing further into her slick folds. She was molten, liquid fire on his tongue, each of her panting moans shooting tension further to his groin.

Her moans grew in volume and frequency – he knew she was close. He found the bundle of nerves at the tip of her entrance and drew his tongue over it, eliciting further excited noises from her. He rolled it between his lips, and gently scraped it with his teeth.

She shattered apart, his name a prayer on her lips, her muscles tightened as she arched into the orgasm. He lowered her hips back to the mattress and brought his face back up to hers. Her fingers were already working at the waistband of his jockeys. They kissed ravenously, as if the others' lips would keep starvation at bay. His skin felt like fireworks, his biotics flaring and popping at her touch.

She finally worked him free of his jockeys and the cool air of her cabin hit him. He shivered against her, but she was there, her core searing hot and ready for him. He settled between her thighs, languidly slipping a hand down the length of her body to her thigh, hooking his fingers just behind her knees and bringing them up alongside his hips. Her fingertips clung to the dip where the muscles of his shoulders met his biceps.

He paused, just for a moment, to look at her. To revel in the feeling of his skin against hers. Her fingers traced his jaw, feather-light touches that made his heart leap and flutter. He kissed her, slow and gentle and _perfect_.

No more time would be wasted between them, he decided, and hilted himself fully within her.

They both cried out at the sensation, and with a groan, Kaidan buried his face in her neck and began to move. The noises she made! A thrill swept through him as he realized that _he_ was responsible for this. He was responsible for the writhing, the moans, the mind-bending way she clenched around him as he moved. He nibbled on her neck, chasing her pulse with his tongue and teeth.

"Harder, Kaidan," she panted, and he obeyed without a second thought, rocking against her inelegantly, roughly, but her cries of pleasure told him that elegance was secondary.

With her, their unions were never long. He already felt his tight control slipping as his hips' movements became more and more erratic. He smothered a groan with her neck, panting as he lifted her up, up, up... He felt her shudder around him, arching, and as she reached the peak, she wailed, _wailed_, and this became Kaidan's undoing. His own release chased after hers, the waves of pleasure causing his hips to twitch, shallow thrusts that brought him to completion with a stifled groan.

It took them several moments to come down from that high place, where only they existed, free from pressures and regulations. Their heartbeats returned to normal, their breathing became steadier, and her trembling slowed and eventually ceased. He seared the image of her in his mind, of his lover, eyes closed, bosom heaving from exertion, her arm draped over her face. The great Commander Shepard, reduced to a quivering, panting mess at _his_ hands. He smirked at the thought.

"You are not sleeping in the crew quarters anymore," she sighed. It sounded nothing like an order. He curled around her, pressing his chest flush against her back. She groped blindly for the blanket and brought it up around them with a shiver. She rolled to face him, pillowing her head on his bicep. Her eyes were still closed. The look on her face said that she was trying to commit the preceding events to memory, as he had.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as she kissed him, soft and warm, and pressed her face into his throat with another sleepy sigh. His arms came around her. He pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled.


End file.
